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It sucked. And the suckiest thing of all the suckiest things in that room was Ms Harridan, with her skanky cardigan, milk-curdling face, and her 'hamster cage after you haven't cleaned it out for two weeks' breath. So I was really pleased when Headmaster Crotchety invited me into his private office. Which was just as sucky as the other room but let's not go through all that again. But none of it was as sucky as Headmaster Crotchety who not only didn't offer me a seat but just went on and on about uniforms and standards and bitch-whores and nubile teen temptresses and enlarged members and Mr Carpenter wanking in the staff loos as if I hadn't had to stand and listen to Miss Crossface say exactly the same things. Rather than listening, I was busy trying to push the remote control, vibrating, princess plug out of my tushy before sucking it back in again which was much more fun than listening to all those spewy, boring words. Yet he just kept talking; words, words and yet more words;. “Oh, just a chicken and pasta casserole,” replied Peter. He leaned over and kissed her. “That’s pretty. Is it new?”“No, not really.”“I must not have seen it before then. It looks very nice. Professional, yet sexy.”Lauren smiled. She was wearing a skirt suit that did indeed look professional yet sexy. It was in a navy-blue pinstripe, with a skirt that was tastefully short, several inches above the knee, and form fitting, with the jacket being fitted with a vee neckline. She wore dark stockings and three-inch heels with it.“Take your coat off and stay a while,” commented Peter. “Would you like a beer?”“Why not,” answered Lauren. Peter put the casserole in the oven, then began rooting around in the refrigerator for the beer, Lauren got a wicked thought and decided to say, ‘Why not?’ to both comments. She unbuttoned her jacket and removed it, tossing it onto the bar separating the kitchen from the dining room.Peter fumbled in the refrigerator for several minutes before standing.
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"A little. More impatient than nervous, I think. I can't wait to get you alone."When the plane was down and they had cleared customs, they were met at the gate by a representative of the Institute. A tanned young woman had several other couples bound for the Institute in tow."Welcome to Aruba. My name is Sandy, and I'll be your guide into we get to the Institute. There you'll meet your coaches and get settled in. I know you are anxious to learn more about the Institute, but I'll leave that to your coaches."Since Janet and Mike were the last to arrive the whole group boarded a van for the short drive from the airport to the estate that was to be their home for the next two weeks.On arrival at the Institute Sandy brought Janet and Mike to a luxurious bungalow that was to be their home for the next two weeks. There was a sitting room that opened on a shady garden with a fountain. Three doors led to bedrooms, one bearing a sign that read "Wilson". Another door led to a huge bath with a.

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